


Morning Light

by SmilesMcGee



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: And Nothing Actually Happens, Gen, its just long...., theres no plot, this is long, this isnt a LEAD UP to anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilesMcGee/pseuds/SmilesMcGee
Summary: Cassius is the resident Secret Keeper and takes great pride in his work. At the dawn of each new day he rises and sets about his routine. What sort of secrets do you keep, gedein?





	Morning Light

His name hadn’t always been Cassius.   
His aja used to whisper his first name in his ear as a baby, and in the back of his dreams he still hears it. He was given a new name when he was traded. The names of his people _belonged_ with his people, and would stay there. It would always be his, but never again would it be spoken as his own. 

It was the first secret he was ever given to keep. 

He heard it now, as golden light swam in his vision, and a pair of arms reached down to cradle him.  _“Y’tvani ae, toom y’tvani ae.”_ a voice whispered in his ear. _I love you, I love you baby._

Cassius groaned quietly, eyes fluttering, the gold light of his dream turning into the faint white-gold light of an early morning. Closing his eyes to the sun, he tried to run his tongue over his lips, but found it too thick to really move. Sighing a bit, he began his daily mental inventory. 

 _Left leg, up, and down. Right leg, up, and down._ Hmm, slight pull on the way up, he’d better watch that, don’t want to end up unexpectedly bed-bound.

 _Both feet, up, down._  That was always a good sign. Nothing worse than a day on fused in place ankles, although he supposed he could always fly more to compensate. 

He lifted both arms above his body and winced in pain. Yup, his left shoulder was still stuck alright. The Doc said that the muscle was fusing to the back shoulder blade, and it could be a while before it shifted back. He might even lose use of the arm entirely for a while; no one could ever really say what would happen until it did. 

Cassius sat up slowly, letting out a tiny squeak and trying to keep weight off of the offending shoulder. Yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he felt for the glass of water next to the nest. It was empty, typical. Hopefully the bucket wasn’t. He really needed something to drink.

He rubbed his eyes again, and then stopped, blinking with his brow furrowed at his slender purple hands. _What in the..._ He sighed, lips tightening as he inspected the rather severe angle his pinkie finger was sticking out at. 

Well, he was going to have to be careful about _that_ , no point in accidentally breaking a finger on top of everything else. Humming a little in resignment, he swung his legs out of bed, and began checking everything else. 

Tapping his feet together a bit, Cassius looked down at his legs. The same dusky purple that covered his hands and wrapped his arms completely covered his feet as well, winding its way up his legs in what was once perfect symmetry. He lifted the thin nightie away from his chest, and checked the marks there too. 

The large sweeping band of purple curled around his chest as well, all the way up his back, around his neck, and in one final strip across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. One of the last remaining marks of his original home. Not really a secret, not like his name was. 

He ran a finger up the markings on his legs fondly. Bug worried sometimes that he was hurt by the fact he didn’t remember much about his people and was just refusing to admit it. He knew enough, though. 

He’d been marked as a baby. They’d waited long enough to let him grow, to see if he smiled when held or if he cried through the night. Spirits had to be consulted, stars had to be taken into account, and careful thought had to be given to make sure they were the right marks. 

Markings were a _gift._ Never to be a burden. Hence the careful consideration and reverence that went into the tradition. 

His own were to show devotion. Devotion to _Hea-ieana_ and patience before all else. They’d seen him as kind, even before he could walk, and had chosen to mark him for a path of gentle wisdom and fierce loyalty. 

No, his markings were a gift. He loved them dearly. He wasn’t particularly religious anymore, but... he still harbored great respect for the figure who’s path of worship he had been sent down. Enough to follow basic teachings as best he could and to mumble what few prayers he could remember when appropriate. 

After struggling with the nightie for a bit, Cassius gave up, and began to dress himself over it. Socks, easy. Undershorts, easy. Pants, easy. Sleeves? Hm, now that might be a problem. Stretching a little bit and listening to the small pops that resulted, he looked around, choosing to scoop up a discarded pair from the floor instead of rummaging through the drawers. 

He padded awkwardly to the door, joints still stiff, and pulled it open a crack, squinting out into the dawning light. Was the sun almost to the second rib already? Damn, he was running late. 

Sighing a little, Cassius pursed his lips and turned to softly walk back over to the bed. Running late meant no time for trying to dress himself... Help dressing meant waking Bug... Waking Bug meant, well.. She’d been so out of it last night that maybe he’d be able to escape quickly, without getting dragged back to bed more than once or twice.

He began shaking the large mound underneath the blankets on the bed until it began to move on it’s own, something underneath roused by the gentle rocking. A small rounded snout poked out from the blanket pile, blinked its rather large blue eyes at him blearily, and blew out a tiny puff of air through the nose in annoyance.

Cassius smiled a little, “Good morning to you too, Buggers.”

Bug yawned, tongue curling out over sharp pointy teeth, and flopped her head back down onto the pillow. “S’early..”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just...” He twisted the sleeves in his hand a little, pausing with displeasure at the nature of the request.   


Bug lifted her head again, easily picking up on the odd pause and slightly distressed tone. “Need s’m help?” 

Cassius nodded and offered the twisted fabric to her. Yawning again, she took it and started to unravel it. “M’kay... Turn ‘round.”

She slid the first sleeve over his half-fused arm first, trying not to jar it much, and then bringing the second sleeve up over his currently “good” arm. She nuzzled the back of Cassius’ neck slightly, bringing the back ties together to fasten them. 

“Your arm still fused?” When Cassius nodded she continued, making small thoughtful squeaking noises, “Maybe sleeves aren’t th’ best idea then. Time to switch to some more bundled clothes?”

Cassius shook his head and turned around to let her tie the front strands of the sleeves. “No, it’s too warm out. Besides, the Doc says it’s shifting pretty quick, so it’ll change again soon.” He smiled at her and held up another fabric lump, “Shirt too?”

Bug blew a raspberry at him and took the shirt, shoving it over his head with mock-annoyance. “Why am I _dressing_ you. I should be _un_ dressing you.” 

Cassius’ head popped up from the neckhole, and he laughed softly at her pouting face. “I’m laaaaate. And you’re probably hungover.”

She threw up her arms, “All the more reason to strip down and stay in bed! Come on already!” She pulled at his arm insistently.

Cassius let himself be led back into the mass of warm blankets on the bed, giggling a little despite the desperate platitudes of time nagging at his head. Letting himself sink into the warmth of the mattress and soft kisses, his thoughts returned once more to his original home. Finally, head hazy and against the better judgement of every fiber of his being, he pulled himself from the strangling grip of his girlfriend. 

Crawling out of the bed he quickly turned and began stacking as many pillows as he could reach on top of where he knew Bug was laying. The weight would distract her, causing her to stay put and fall back asleep almost immediately instead of re-surfacing to pull him back under. 

“Bye, Buggie. I’ll see you later, okay?”   


He reached to the hooks on the wall by the door, pulling his hood over his head and fastening the cord. Next he grabbed his bags, strapping the strand of pouches around his waist with practiced ease. The scroll case... would he need that? He didn’t think anything really was going on today but... perhaps it would be better to take it anyway, so he didn’t have to make the trip back if it turned out that he _did_ need it.

Finally, he pulled the final piece from its place. His mask, special enough to be on its own hook, in the position closest to the door. Slipping it over his head quickly, he turned to look in the small hazy mirror nearby. He smiled at his reflection, watched the bone mask twitch a few times and then finally copy his smile. A perfect replica. 

Sighing again he made a mental note to add “Visit DP” to his list of things to do today. It always took a moment to sync to his face when he put it on in the morning but... that was much longer than usual. It probably needed some sort of tune up.

Packed and ready, he headed out, being sure to close the door completely behind him so it didn’t blow open at any point. The sun had risen some and was now casting a warmer glow on the mostly sleeping village. 

There were faint stirrings coming from different places as Cassius walked slowly towards Krin’mor. There was the backlit form of a mirror leaving the nearby watchtower at the end of the nightwatch shift, the sound of chickens rustling from beneath a nearby porch and beginning to scratch at the ground of Wolfmother’s garden, and what seemed to be the older Usbrod sisters (one waking up and one heading to bed, apparently). 

Cassius sped up slightly, head back as he took in scent of morning air. If he was lucky he’d be there before Rah was, giving him some leeway in terms of how late he was. He thumbed his forehead out of habit,  _Iiten laney wa’y._ Luck before all else. 

Rah’s mate had come to visit recently, if Cassius remembered correctly, so hopefully he was still in the clan, and the snotty scribe would be somewhat occupied this morning. 

Sometimes, when things lined up right, it would cause Chrysi to come into town as well, in order to visit with her two adopted dads. Cassius sighed wistfully. That would be nice... He hadn’t seen her in a while, although Bug had gone to visit fairly recently, and he missed the extra companionship and affection in his life.

Well, patience and understanding. He knew she was busy and really if he couldn’t make the time to visit _her_ then he couldn’t complain if she wasn’t able to visit _him._ He loved his job dearly, but it did have its toll sometimes.

Skirting around the outside of the building at True Center, Cassius stopped in front of the clan leader’s house. Surtr kept her pets inside the house some nights, often letting them out to roam in the mornings so as to avoid mess in her lair. This meant that if he wasn’t careful, Cassius might run into one of the rather large bonepriests or corpse cleaners. They were familiar with him, many of them having been raised in his presence, but some of the newer ones were more unpredictable having not had the same amount of time as their elders to recognize what was and wasn’t some form of potential food.

Cassius gave a rather large yelp as hard, jutting horns suddenly rammed into his back; but just as quickly as fear seized him, it subsided. Turning, he found himself face to face with the largest Corpse Cleaner a dragon would ever see.

“Ichtor! You brat!” He grabbed the piece of horn nearest him and yanked down on it playfully. The giant bug shook its head a little and rammed him again. Cassius laughed a little, and turned to continue walking. “No treats for you, yet! I haven’t had breakfast, silly.”  


Ichtor was the largest and oldest of Surtr’s collection, having been the very first she found and decided to raise. Taken in as a tiny grub, he and Cassius grew up under her care at the same time. The little wiggling creature had been left many times with the small frail toddler, and had learned not to bite him, instead deciding that this small and fluffy dragon was not enemy nor prey, but rather, a fellow insect that had never left the larval stage or grown horns. 

(Cassius was a strange and squishy perma-grub in Ichtor’s eyes, but he was still his brother, and Ichtor would not allow any harm to come to him.)

Chuckling quietly, Cassius let himself into Surtr’s home, stopping in the foyer to ensure the door was closed (with a quick prayer, as always) and to remove his boots before heading further into the home. 

The morning tasks were easy, and had never been something that was ever given to him as part of his duties, but instead were things he had done out of respect that later grew into habit. Surtr believed very strongly in routine as a necessity for a number of dragons in the clan; encouraging it silently for people like Cassius who had rather stressful situations. Routine was a comfort, and no one had to tell _him_ twice.

Setting his scroll case down very gently on the table in first room on the right, he began pulling out the necessary supplies for tea, pausing to greet Fire as he quickly slithered into the room. 

“Good morning, Fire. Would you like to stay for tea?”   


The spiral looked up at Cassius, slithered onto the low flames in the fire pit, and slithered off as soon as it was once again comfortably roaring. 

“I guess that’s a no, then.” _He probably has a lot of other fires to tend._ Cassius shook his head and smiled to himself slightly, placing the water over the freshly roused fire to heat. He grabbed a stiff broom from its hiding place behind a hanging cloth and gently swept the trail of soot Fire had left behind into the hearth. Reaching into a nearby container he pulled out a jar that was filled with some sort of dense paste and scrapped a healthy portion into one of the clan’s glass bowls. Adding a bit of water, he mixed it until it started to smell more like food, and once satisfied, he placed it on the table right next to four upturned cups.   


Humming a song to himself softly, Cassius pulled the water from the fire and set the tea to steep. He lit a small lantern and quietly padded across the house to the far left side of the crescent shaped building. Parting thick curtains, he walked into a dark lair, hung ceiling to floor with heavy fabrics and various mysterious plants and strange objects in bottles. Placing the lantern on a low shelf, he crept towards the bed which contained what could only be described as a mass of hair connected to a forehead. Next to the nest was a relatively small structure made of bone, wood, and stone which was covered at the top with blankets and pillows. It was from this that a small arm poked out and waved, a tiny voice cooing softly, already awake despite no hint of sunlight in the room.

“Well, hi there...” Cassius smiled and touched the hand, giving it a small shake when it latched around his own. “It’s breakfast time, little missy,” he whispered, reaching in and grunting some as he attempted to retrieve the massive baby from its crib.

Sostviin was almost as large as his entire torso, and was definitely heavy enough to match. Balancing her mostly on his right arm to avoid straining his already tortured shoulder, Cassius quietly left the room, brushing down soft fluffy feathers and fur, rearranging the thin leathery wings that had been ruffled during the night. 

Cassius sat back down at the table with the large pink infant placed firmly in his lap. He kissed her snout gently and reached for the bowl he had prepared earlier. Placing it on the table and taking a spoon out of his apron pocket, he held up a small dollop of the goo to Sostviin’s mouth, making small and encouraging yummy noises. 

A padded paw reached out to rest on his wrist, tiny tongue licking the spoon clean and snout bumping clumsily against his hand looking for more. Cassius scooped up some more and continued to feed her, cooing and looking up only briefly when Rah entered the room. 

Rah plopped a stack of papers on the table with a quiet grunt, causing the entire structure to move some with the low “phwump”. He began rummaging through a bag of scrolls and Cassius paused to look at him. Rah’s hair was slightly frazzled, flyaway hairs shooting off in almost every direction. His brow was furrowed slightly, and his collar seemed to be turned some, it had clearly been put on in a haste. If Cassius didn’t know any better, he might think that Rah had managed to put his skirt on backwards as well.

A desperate paw scraped at him and he resumed feeding, smiling down at Surtr’s daughter again. It seemed he was right, and that Rah had indeed had a visitor. These were all the hallmark signs of Rah oversleeping and rushing to gather himself in time. Personally Cassius thought it was a good thing, the scribe worked harder than most of them and could always use more rest.

 _Not that there necessarily had been resting,_ he thought to himself with a small audible giggle.

Rah looked up, one hand tucking stray hair behind his ear, squinting at Cassius slightly, “What?” 

Cassius shook his head, “Just the baby.” Rah grunted and turned back to his bag, pausing before pulling out a scroll with a small triumphant ‘ah-ha!’. 

“It’s a bit early for business, isn’t it Rah?”  


“You say that every morning.” He pulled the scroll open and flopped into the nearest chair lightly.  


“I don’t...” Cassius shifted Sostviin in his lap and placed the spoon gently next to the half-empty bowl. “Do I?”  


“Something to that effect and _immediately_  after I’ve begun pulling out work, yes.” Rah shook his head a bit, “Not that it’s my place to comment, of course. I’d never mean anything negative by it.”   


Cassius rolled his eyes a bit and turned over one of the tea cups on the table. Rah’s eyes flicked to it, though his head did not turn, and he made an effort to straighten himself without it being too obvious. 

With almost exact timing, Surtr silently appeared on the threshold, draped in an unusual sort of robe. She nodded to them both and crossed to the third side of the room where she began rummaging through a strange chest. It was detailed and ornate but by no means flashy, and like most of the shelves and containers in the room it rested atop another like it. 

“Good morning, oni’kin.” Cassius piped cheerfully, “Did you sleep well?”  


She nodded, her back to the other dragons in the room. “Yes.”

“Did you dream?”  


She looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile, “All in due time, young one.” 

Cassius smiled bashfully and went back to wiping at Sostviin’s face. “Oni’kin, would you like breakfast today?”

Surtr closed the chest and carried what she had pulled from it over to the table, pausing to place a hand on Cassius’s cheek. “No need to be so formal, _gedein_.” She pulled away and sat down next at the table, Rah shuffling papers to ensure they weren’t in front of her. Cassius blushed at the name, she had met his formality with her own, a gentle attempt at humor from the otherwise imposing leader.

Placing a small box on the table and preparing her own morning rituals, Surtr reached over to give her daughter a small pet on the snout.   


Impatient to begin, Rah shuffled through his pile of scrolls and pulled one out. “Kiin, it seems that overnight our-” 

Surtr cut Rah off with a gentle shushing sound. “All in time. It is not yet time.” 

Rah huffed and pulled a slim pencil out of his waistband, bending to make some marks on a scroll while he waited.   


They sat, the only sounds were that of the softly crackling fire, the occasional scritch of Rah’s pencil, an irritated ‘tsk’ here and there, and sort wheezy snorts from the baby who had accepted that she was not going to be fed any further and was beginning to settle down for her first morning nap. Cassius shifted her, then reaching across the table with his free arm, he picked up the pot and poured the now-set tea into the three cups. The first he offered to Surtr, leaving room for additions although he knew she did not use any, as it was deemed polite. The second he held up for Rah, clearing his throat to catch the scribe's attention. Overly enthralled in his own work, Rah reached over to take it without looking. He bumped the cup slightly but none spilled. The second cup was always filled only halfway, leaving room for a small bit of milk and to compensate for almost always being bumped into.

He slid the third cup gently towards himself, taking a spoonful of something from a small jar and stirring it in quietly. Once satisfied it had dissolved, he raised his mask, then lifted the cup and slurped at it. Finally, after she’d made some progress on her own tea and did what Cassius assumed was some sort of thought organization, Surtr placed her cup on the table and held her arms out for the tiny imp in his lap. 

“Ah diislen, y’ling voth kuul nok?” The baby looked almost normal in size in her arms, large and pink, but still prominently dark, as she was. They certainly _looked_ related, and it was for this reason that the question still remained as to where the child had come from, as it seemed too short a time for Surtr to have laid her herself, and too strange to thing that somewhere in the world a father existed for the child. It was speculated that she had simply found the young imp lying in the desert, but... that resemblance.. It raised doubts.  


Surtr turned her attention back to Cassius, “I dreamt.” He lowered his cup slightly, eyes quizzical and full of anticipation. 

“I dreamt last night. Of a strange place, new not to me but to us. I did not get to visit it, but chose instead to follow the butterfly that flew through my dreams.” She nodded, more to herself than anything. “It led me far and I feel... we might soon have a visitor. One who is... kin’bok of his own.”

She saw the look on Cassius and Rah’s faces, and tilted her head. “You worry.”

Rah blinked rapidly and lowered his paper and pencil to his lap. “I... I am concerned.” His face twisted a bit, “Does that not mean more change for us? Or potentially something dangerous?” 

Surtr did not answer the question but instead turned her gaze to Cassius, as if asking him to respond for her. What the response she wanted was, he did not know, but as usual it caused him to give pause and consider a second angle. “We don’t know that he’s not alone. We don’t know anything.” He swirled the tea in his cup absently, “But... visitors are welcome now.” Cassius shrugged, “So what can you do.”

Surtr nodded and pet the wing of the now sleeping Sostviin fondly. “There are more important things. I believe you were mentioning one, nil’rot?”

Rah jumped slightly and scrambled for his papers as if suddenly struck by the memory that he _did_ have things to say and they _were_ important thank you very much! He grabbed his scroll and held it out for her with a quiet triumph. 

Cassius reached for the teapot as Rah began to outline all the important things that had happened overnight. Some _would_ prove to be important, but generally they were all of little to no consequence, or were things that could simply be put aside and dealt with at a later time. He topped off all of the cups and returned to sitting quietly, sipping at his own. His thoughts returned briefly to Bug, still snug as, well, a bug in a rug, in his bed. He almost snickered at the thought but caught himself, he was supposed to be paying _attention_. Oops.

So far it hadn’t been a particularly eventful morning. The things he had done were more of less in line with his usual routine, and none of the news sounded very exciting. The day would continue, then the three of them would go to eat breakfast, after which Surtr would meet with the other, more important dragons. First, those ziist, and then those siid. Rah would stop by his lair to see his boyfriend and then would likely continue on to his office, where he would work until midday, at which point he would begin his daily duties around the clan. 

Cassius would eat. He would begin his own duties, and be sure to check in on the encampment to the east as well as the two people who had chosen to stay near the highland overnight on their way through the desert. If Surtr’s dream was prophetic, he would have to be sure he was available to meet this person as they arrived. And if not, well... It never hurts to be ready for visitors.

He shook his head slightly and lifted his mask up again, she was right. She was always right.   


_“All in time.”_   



End file.
